


Santa Claus is Coming to Town

by swmbo



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Gen, Post-Series, Strong Language, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-30
Updated: 2011-12-30
Packaged: 2017-10-28 12:36:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/307945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swmbo/pseuds/swmbo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Demons, impending death - now it's starting to feel a lot like Christmas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Santa Claus is Coming to Town

“Hey, Dawn! Sure you don’t want to come with? There’s going to be cake! And those big doughnuty things, Ringles. You like those.” Buffy leaned her head into Dawn’s bedroom, smiling at her.

“ _Ringli_ ” Dawn corrected absently. She didn’t look up from the book she was studying.

Buffy tilted her head to one side, frowning. “Didn’t I kill a pack of those last week? Over by Lake Lucerne?”

Dawn lifted her head and just stared at Buffy for a second. “Those were Rignar demons, Buffy. _Ringli_ are the doughnuts.”

“Oh. Huh.” Buffy shrugged, walking over to the bed and plopping down. She leaned over and peered at the book, making a face. “That's Latin, isn’t it? Aren’t you supposed to be on Christmas break? What are you doing homework for?”

“It’s not homework. It’s for Giles. Well, not for Giles, cause he could translate it faster, but you know, for practice. Besides, I like it.”

Buffy blinked. “Are you sure you’re my sister? Maybe the monks screwed up and made you out of Willow’s blood.”

“Huh. That would explain my charm, good looks, and intelligence.”

“Hah! Whatever. Seriously, Dawn, are you sure you don’t want to come to this St. Nicholas Day party? It’s apparently a pretty big deal here, cause ‘the man’ visits kids in Switzerland tonight, instead of Christmas Eve. Plus, you know, doughnuts.”

Dawn nodded. “Yeah, I know, I know. I was the one who explained it to you, remember? I’m just - not really in the party mood. Besides, if I get all of this translated tonight, than I have all of tomorrow to do my Christmas shopping before everybody descends on us for the next couple of weeks.”

Buffy’s face softened and she ran her hand over Dawn’s hair. “I just – I just want you to have a good Christmas, Dawnie. I want you to relax and have fun. I know the last couple of years have been…” Her voice trailed off.

Dawn impulsively leaned over and hugged Buffy, squeezing until she got a small oomph. She smiled. “It is. It will be. It feels a little weird, having a Christmas without Mom. I mean, yeah, it’s not the first, but … it’s kind of the first one where there hasn’t been some sort of impending apocalypse, or where you know, you were all depressed and we were broke and…”

“Yeah. I know. I get that. It’s kinda weird for me too. But, you know, we can do this. I mean, we’ve got the tree and the stockings ‘all hung up with care’ and…”

“Hung up with care?!” Dawn poked Buffy in the side. “You tore a great big hole in mine when you snagged a tree branch on it!”

Buffy blushed, then poked Dawn back. “You were the one all ‘oh, look, you have slayer strength, you put up the tree, I’ll just sit back here and have some hot cocoa’.”

“I was operating in a supervisory capacity!”

“Uh-huh. Obviously you didn’t do a very good job, cause there’s a giant hole in your Christmas stocking.”

”Yeah, I noticed. You’re so getting your wages docked for that. I’ve already filled out the paperwork.”

Buffy climbed to her feet, laughing. “You’re absolutely sure you don’t want to come?”

“I’m sure! Jeeze! Go! Have fun! Leave me to my work.”

Buffy leaned over, planting a kiss on the top of Dawn’s head. “OK, I’ll stop bothering you.” Her voice quieted. “I love you, Dawnie.”

Dawn looked up at her. “Love you too, Buffy. Happy St. Nicholas Day.”

Buffy gave a little wave, flashing one last smile at Dawn. A minute later, Dawn heard the front door slam, followed by a smaller crash as the vibrations knocked an ornament off the tree. Again. Dawn groaned and swung her feet to the floor. She stood up, holding the book carefully. Last time she lost her place, it took almost fifty minutes to find it again.

“Every single time…” she muttered, heading out into the living room to survey the damage. Huh. A red ornament. That was the third red one in two days. “Next year? We’re only allowing Buffy to have plastic ornaments.” Dawn ducked into the tiny kitchen, hunting for the dustpan. “It’d serve her right if I just left it there for her to clean up.”

She grabbed the dustpan and broom, juggling them with the book for a second as she walked back into the living room. A tiny sound from the chimney distracted her. She stopped, staring at it as a black, shiny boot appeared, quickly followed by another. Dawn backed up a step, still watching.

“Ok. That’s … different.”

She was momentarily relieved when legs instead of a third boot appeared. Maybe it’s just thieves? Really weird, Christmas thieves, like the Grinch ...

Her thoughts broke off as the rest of the figure emerged.

“Eep!” She squeaked, stumbling backwards, dropping the broom and dustpan in panic. Big, ugly demon with a white beard that had little tiny bones braided in it… Dawn’s mind suddenly flashed back to the Christmas of two years ago. Anya’s voice saying Santa and his eight tiny reindeer were real, followed by the phrase _disemboweling children_.

“Demon! With sharp claws! Oh. Claws. Claus. Huh. That finally makes sense…” Her voice broke off as the Santa demon snarled, swiping at her with one of its clawed hands.

Dawn dodged the blow, glancing around for a weapon. Demon, impending death … now it was finally starting to feel like Christmas. And damn it, why did Buffy have to decide that weapons didn’t work with festive Holiday decor and put them all out of sight for the season?

Offensive. She needed to go on the offensive. Dawn gave up looking for something sharp, blocking a swipe of claw with the Latin book still clutched in her hands.

“Why. Don’t. I. Have. Slayer. Strength?” Dawn said between gasps for air, beating at the Santa with the book. She winced, hearing the spine crack. A single page slipped out, fluttering to the floor. “Shit, Giles is going to kill me. Shit.”

Dawn paused a second, trying to figure out if there was any way she could pin the blame on Buffy. The demon growled, reaching toward her again.

“Shit, shit, shit, um…damn it, it’s already ruined… _librum incendere_.” The book in her hand burst into flames and she thwacked the demon with it again, smiling in satisfaction as the flames spread and caught its robes on fire. “Ouch!” Dawn dropped the book and began stamping on it frantically, sticking a scorched finger in her mouth.

The Santa demon bellowed with pain, slapping at its burning garments with clawed hands. The flames ran up higher, and the distinct and sadly familiar smell of burning demon flesh started to fill the living room. With a final howl of agony, the demon turned and ran straight for the chimney, wriggling and twisting its way up.

"That's right," Dawn called out as she watched the demon scramble up the chimney frantically, its legs kicking against the side, "Whose been naughty _this_ year ... oh man. I don't even know how Buffy does the comeback thing." Just as the demon started to disappear from view, the sack on his back shifted slightly, the top gaping open. Out from the bag rolled a tiny, shrunken head, bouncing twice before coming to a stop at Dawn’s feet.

“Ewww.” Dawn wrinkled her nose. Then she paused for a minute, considering it thoughtfully. Running into the kitchen, she emerged a moment later clutching a paper towel. Carefully, she picked up the head, studying it intently. “Not human,” she breathed with a sigh of relief. A slow grin spread across her face. “Looks like I just found my Christmas present for Xander. Score!”

**Author's Note:**

> As a backup for a Dawn ficathon challenge of '03, with the requirements: Challenge requirements: Switzerland, Christmas, no pairing
> 
>  
> 
> Post Season 7. I love you, Dawnie.


End file.
